


To be seen

by mysterious_willow



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Can be read as gender neutral, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Comedy, Demon Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Filth, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Horny Demons, Mates, Other, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), References to Depression, Sebastian’s bad, Slow Burn, Smut, Tryna find out how that demon nut taste, and humans, but not really, but not too bad, kinky demon, reader is referred to as she, smut smut smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterious_willow/pseuds/mysterious_willow
Summary: A ghost tucked against the edge of the crowd, silent and invisible, you moved the pieces of your life miserably across the board. Your opponents never stayed long, bored of the game of you, and you had begun to drown in the silence of your solitude.A robotic dial tone, a shadow dancing along the edge of your vision, a light that burned through the tears of your eyes, and the soft voice of a stranger threw the board of your game to the ground. And the pieces shattered against the pavement of the highway.Could you put them back together again? Did you want to? Or did you want to build a new game entirely? A game of cats and ravens, of mysteries and destinies, of humans and demons. And maybe all you needed was one hell of a push in the right(?) direction.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis & Reader, Sebastian Michaelis x Reader, Sebastian Michaelis/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue ꧂ Screams in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely self-indulgent. I’ve written this all for myself and yes, I am ashamed of it. There will be danger, mystery, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if there wasn’t absolutely disgustingly detailed demon sex too. We’ll see how long I can handle the “slow-burn”. I’ll be creating my own ending too, considering the Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji works haven’t been completed yet. It’ll be soft, it’ll be rough, and more than anything, it’ll be one hell of a ride.

The bitter freeze of the winter wind bit through the cotton of your black leggings and crawled up the bottom of your sweater. A dull ringtone rattled against your ear and you bounced your leg anxiously, listening for the sound of a familiar voice on the other end until-

“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.“ You groaned miserably, tossing your head back and watching the heat of your breath swirl up into the sky. Of course she wouldn’t answer, not tonight; any other day of the week, she would’ve picked up immediately, but not tonight. 

If mom couldn’t come to your rescue, maybe dad could. “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.” Maybe not. 

You dropped back against the hood- the smoking hood- of your car. In the frozen wonderland of looming trees and sprawling pavement before you, it offered the only heat for miles. The blue glow of the phone screen before you burned white at its center. 10% battery remaining. 

You balled your fists along the neck of your sweater and screamed desperately into it. After your voice cracked and faded away, you nestled your face in the warm of the black fabric and simply sat. A heartbeat later, maybe two, you lifted your red face up to the drowning blue of the sky and your eyes fell up to the Little Dipper; solitary in the blue and black cloudy sky. 

“We’re both alone then, huh, bubs?” You traced the lines of the stars from the edge of the dipper up to the handle before you fell back onto your feet. “Well, sitting here won’t do me any good, will it? Back the way we came, it is.” 

The balls of your feet ached in the curve of your wedged heels and you mumbled a curse into the frigid air at your face. A dumpster fire, wrapped in a drowning puppy, wrapped in a wet sock, wrapped in a stale soda of a year… Why would the end of it have been any better? The cement of the old highway clacked up against the bottoms of your shoes and sent a start of pain into your leg with each step. The wind dancing in the trees, the tap of your heels against the road, the angry bite of the cold all served to numb my surroundings and you found yourself brooding back on the night. 

High school was a nightmare, a whirlwind of emotional insanity and horrible insecurity, and college hadn’t served you any better. You’d always dreamed of the difference college would bring you, the confidence that would come with the onslaught of new faces and environments. Popularity- both with friends and boys- hadn’t found you in high school, and why you had expected it to in college baffled you, but you had. Stories of fun parties and crazy hook-ups littered the halls of high school and the lecture halls of college, and yet you sat silent. A ghost along the edge of the crowd. No friends, no romance, no fun. Just school. 

So when your few girlfriends from high school had reached out to you, after months of silence and invisibility to them, you hadn’t any fire in your heart to refuse. You needed to be seen by someone, anyone, and even if they only saw you as a ride home, a wallet to bum money out of, at least it was all seen. You scoffed, “Lot of good that did me.”

The party wasn’t a big one, they had said, just a fun get-together with people from their work; they never were any good at lying. The responsibility had fallen to you that night, as you had suspected it would. You were the ride there, the ride home, the bodyguard, the drink-holder, the wingman, the silent and invisible punching bag to hang up when it was needed. Watching them tongue strangers all night began to sour your already unstable mood, and the worst part? No one, not a single soul, not a crumb on the floor, had even asked you for your name. 

So you waited, silent and brooding, on the moldy and sticky couch while your friends did exactly what you knew they would: Forget you. The living room grew quieter and you suddenly realized you couldn’t hear the sound of their drunken hysteria any longer. With an embarrassed ask around and a rude, ‘get the hell out of here’ answer, your conclusion was drawn. To be forgotten, fine, but to be left behind!? A new, unknown rage roared to life inside you and you slammed your way down to your car, the windows of the house shook with the force and you reveled in the sound. 

To round the corner and see some couple sprawled across the hood your car, sucking caverns into one another’s faces, threw the explosion up into your throat and you screamed at them to “GET THE FUCK OFF MY CAR”. They fumbled over each other, hands grabbing and pulling until they disappeared back into the house. You flew into the drivers seat and the engine roared to life with an equal fury, the wheels burnt their emotion into the pavement and the old Mustang screeched down the forgotten highway. Until it didn’t.

The memory of the night stung fresh across the red of your face and you threw your phone down against the pavement, “FUCK YOU!” You turned and screamed into the woods, “I HOPE YOU GET YOUR BACKS BLOWN OUT BY FUCKING CAPITALIST, PIG, CANNIBAL, MURDERER, SOCK-SLEEPING, OVER-PRIVILEGED FUCKING ASSHOLES!” 

You screamed and screamed, curses and hate and anger burning steam into the wind until your voice faded away and your mouth moved silently. A taste of salt flooded your mouth and you realized suddenly that you were sobbing, your back trembling and heart throbbing. You clenched your chest and began to worry you were suffocating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care even if you were. 

Why weren’t you good enough for them? For anyone? Were you meant to stay alone, miserable? Why didn’t you deserve the rush of happiness? That thrill that came from loving and being loved in return? Of being wanted? Would anyone ever want you? Did you deserve to be wanted? Why where you even there? Why did you have to live when you felt so lonely? Wouldn’t it be easier to just… Stop?

With that thought, came several things. You realized that your phone was calling someone, a number you didn’t know. You weren’t given but a moment to process that before you realized something else, a dark shadow flickering across the edge of your vision. A sharp, frightened turn of the head and the figure was gone. You stepped forward into the road, confusion halting the gears within your head, and then you realized one final thing. The wail of a horn, the screech of brakes, and the white fire of headlights filled your mind. A gentle face flashed behind the burn of your eyes, her emerald eyes shone in the candle light and her wrinkled mouth curled kindly. 

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop, (Y/n).”

You gasped softly, the vision of the woman melted away into the white of heaven dancing within your eyes. Then, with a distant thud and a scream, the world fell beneath the black depths of eternity. 

“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Leave your message after the tone.”


	2. Chapter 1 ꧂ A Life Once Lived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams of a life once past haunt you through the endless waters of your mind. Love, anguish, betrayal, pain; smoldering within the crimson gaze of your fallen love. The weight of the past falls against your back like heavy rainfall. And what if the future? Have you lost it completely, or will you begin to forge it anew within the seems of the past? And what of the gentlemen in white, and the Queen in black? What have they to do with this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my, this got long. And tell me, is this as disorienting to read as I think it is? It’s supposed to be, a little, but it’s the middle of the night for me and I absolutely can NOT comprehend. Not even a bit, oopsie.

The heavens trembled beneath the soles of my feet, and my head pulsed against the cries of terror and war. The wind and rubble thundered against the shield of raw energy between us and them. Why had it come to this? This war… I should’ve been able to stop it, I should’ve been able to reach him, and I couldn’t. Why? WHY!?

The cries of my children echoed within the ache of my chest and, following the terror of their stares, I threw my gaze back across the battlefield. The broken bodies sprawled across the field, the golden pulse of their veins spread across the white wisps of the grass, made me sick and I wanted to scream and cry, but the sight of him made me stop. Where had he gone? This glare, the red pulse trapped within his eyes, wasn’t him, not anymore. Who stole you from me? Why couldn’t I stop them? 

I threw my left arm in front of the gathered children behind me, my voice wavered and tears burned within my eyes, “Go! Flee to the Earth! I will find you, I swear it!”

“Mother! No! Please!” Wails of sorrow pounded against the back of my head and I bit my lip until a strand of golden blood pooled down against my chin. I swallowed the urge to ball and scream, to throw myself to the ground and throw a fit until the heavens grew silent. Until he returned to me. With a flick of my wrist, a swirling pool of green and blue opened beneath the feet of the gathered children, and I hung my head as I heard them pulled through the portal to the world beneath the stars. They were safe, even if they hated me for it forever, they were safe… 

A malicious cackle boomed across the deserted battlefield, and I met the all-consuming crimson gaze of the stranger before me, “Sparing them, even at the cost of your own existence? How foolish, how very you!” 

“Please…! Please, don’t do this.” I whispered against the cracked ache of my mouth and the ball of anguish in the back of my throat. “I forgive you, you can stop this. We can go back, back to how it was. Just the two of us! I promise.”

An unreadable expression struck across his face and, for a moment, I knew him once again. He wasn’t a stranger, he was my everything; until, with a grin, he became nothing at all once more. “No, we can’t. Join us, my love, we will rule this plain of existence. Just the two of us.”

The regurgitated words were bitter and hit me across the face with a sickening jolt, “I can’t. You know I can’t.” I tightened my grip around the weapon in my hand, and brought my left hand up to support the heavy top of it. 

“Very well. I will mourn the loss of you, but now. You must die!” He was moving now, his own weapon raised high above his head, and, in moments he was just before me. 

The burning tears spilt over the edges of my eyes now; and with a wilted smile and a throbbing heart, I raised my eyes to his. I admired the warmth of their color, their set in his handsome face, even the dark lines sprawled across the edges of his mouth and cheeks. Three words left my lips, they scorched across the air between us as I said them, and I thrust the lance forward. A light, aflame with black and white, crimson and gold, burst before us and I felt the staff of the Holy Lance snap between my hands. The force of the surge threw me backwards, my hands and face burnt from the fire, and through the haze of pain and energy, I saw him Fall. 

I watched the force of his punishment rip him down to the Earth over which this war had been fought, and I cursed its existence. I cursed the people who would soon inhabit it, I loathed every one of them, for they had begun this, they had taken him from me. The shattered pieces of the staff in my hands grew heavy, and I cursed it’s very existence. This power, this responsibility, it had ruined him, had corrupted and torn him away from me. I wished it would all go away. Go away. “GO AWAY!”

The edges of my vision grew dark, the limbs of unconsciousness grew up heavy against my head, and I suddenly wondered what I had said to him in those last moments. Those words, they had hurt so badly to say and yet they were so warm and kind in my heart. What had they been? My eyes fluttered closed and the ground flew up to meet me, I welcomed my crash against the grass and suddenly I reached forward gently. My fingers brushed the warmth of skin and—

“I love you.”

A gaze of crimson and brimstone fell against my face, black hair framed his face, alight with confusion and pain. I traced the black swirls across the white of his skin and rested my fingertips against the swell of his mouth. Had he always been so beautiful? So warm?

His arms around me grew tight and I leaned my head against them, I breathed in deeply; roses and fire. How odd, how perfect, how very him. He spoke to me then and his words passed through me, I merely enjoyed the feel of them against my hand, the rumble of their depth in his chest. He shook me gently and a drop of liquid crashed against the paling color of my cheek. 

The tears pooled within his eyes made my heart ache and I stretched my arm up to him through the pain pulsing through my chest. I rubbed my fingertips along the long lashes of his eyes, and my heart fluttered when he leaned into the fading warmth of my palm and pressed a sorrowful kiss against the skin there. 

“Don’t… Cry. Please, don’t cry.” I whispered to him, my lips cracked when I smiled and I almost laughed at them. I felt the sturdiness of his hands pulling me tightly against him and he tucked his head against mine, hiding his tears and anger.

“I will find you. I swear it.” His words crashed between my ears and I heard my own voice echoed within the past of them. My own promises thrown back into my face, how funny. 

I pressed a gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth and, with a silent giggle, I rubbed my nose against the side of his cheek. “I’ll be waiting.” 

The weight of the Earth pulled too tightly against me then, my head fell backwards into the palm of his hand and, through the sound of his shouting and the shaking of my body, I fell beneath his grip into the black pools of Death. 

It’s all so dark and cold, so why is my heart so warm? What was all of that? Why am I crying? Why can’t I get the touch of him, the sound, the smell, the crimson gaze of his beauty out of my head. ‘I love you’, I had said. Why did I know in my heart that, without a shadow of a doubt, that was the complete and utter truth? Why did it make me feel like I was suffocating? I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe! The weight of the darkness around me surged down against me as I threw myself upwards, my face met the frozen bite of the world and I gasped for air between my tears. 

꧂

I gasped desperately for breathe, shaking against the wind howling between the trees and the frozen soak of my clothes against me. Once my head stopped pulsing, I wrenched my eyes open and looked around me, my heart hammering in my chest. Ancient trees crawled up from the ground on all sides and a stream gurgled gently into the pond in which I was currently sat. What the hell happened?

Pulling myself up from knee-depth water, I dug through the haze of my strange dream, which faded further and further away the longer I was awake, and a realization clicked in my head. The shadow, the light. “Am I… Dead?”

I ask myself, fear creeping up along the back of my neck. “No, no, no. If you were dead, you wouldn’t be so cold, right? Right? Right. Now, logic, let’s think.”

It was a task easier said than done, I waded out of the pond and wrung the water out of the edges of my sweater anxiously. That light, the truck! “That’s it! That asshole must’ve hit me and threw me off into the woods! Ohohoho, I am going to KILL those idiots when I get back!”

Those idiots, the “friends” who had pulled me along to that stupid, boring party, who had expected me to be their ride home. Screw them! They’re dead, DEAD! I stomped away from the edge of the pond, throwing a silent tantrum as I walked along the stream until it bubbled over a path in the way. Tugging my hair up and out of my face, I trudged left down the path, my anger still hot and bubbling in my face. “How long was I in that stupid pond? It’s light out now.”

I mumbled conversationally with myself, casting my face up to the cloudy sky above. With a jolt and a sink of panic, “I could’ve died. How didn’t I?” Another though struck across me then, and my face grew hot once more, “And those jerk-offs, did they even try to find me? Did they even notice that I left? HA, why would they? Why would anyone…?”

The crash of my roaring anger into a suffocating depression wrenched my heart against the soaking front of my shirt, and I paused in the middle of the path for just a moment. To think. It had always been like that. Even when I was a popular little Elementary girl, people were nice to me because of my popularity, not because they liked me. They’d always been strangers, hidden from me just beyond that empty black barrier. Like I was cursed, and it hurt more with the whispering thought against the back of my head: It was my fault. But how? That didn’t make any sense. 

However, something else did make sense. Getting out of this fucking forest, that made a lot of sense, and so I moved forward again until I heard an odd sound just beyond the line of trees in front of me. The road! I’d found it! Jogging forward with a renewed vigor, I pushed through the thorns and brush of the edge of the woods, and stumbled into the gravel road, under the scream of horses and the clatter of wooden wheels on the rocks. 

“Holy shit! FUCKIN’!” I screamed as I threw myself backwards against the rocks, scrambling away from the slamming hooves of the horses, “FUCK!”

The horses slid to a stop just a few feet away from me and I jumped up, a new anger broiling within me as I brushed rocks and dust off of my pants, “HEY! What the hell, man? You can’t ride horses on the main highway!”

“Oh, dear, I’m so terribly sorry! Are you alright, madam?” 

‘Madam’? The propriety in his tone struck me oddly and, with a quick up-and-down of the man before me, I noticed a multitude of things. His strange outfit the first of them; there were so many layers and the stupid, pointed hat atop his head looked quite ready to slide off of the auburn crown of his hair. The horses and the carriage they pulled followed closely behind, it was so big and fancy and authentic. This guy really took the whole reenactment thing to another level, and, in that moment, my seething anger was replaced with awe. 

“Milady? Are you alright?” The young man stepped down from the carriage’s front seat and moved towards me cautiously. He looked about my age, but the shine of his blue eyes held an innocence in them I’d never seen before. “I meant not to startle you. That fall looked quite painful, are you sure you shall be okay?”

In his practice, he’d managed to completely nail the Victorian accent and mannerisms, that was for sure. I felt shame creep along the back of my neck then and I slouched down into myself, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just… In a bad mood. What about you, you okay?”

“Oh.” The boy flustered deeply when I stepped closer to him, and he suddenly became very interested in the complexity of my black leggings. “You-! You are in trousers!” 

“Yeah, I… Guess so?” I could admire his dedication to a certain degree, but now the topic of conversation had become odd and slightly uncomfortable. I could make a scene about his clothes and his stupid, little hat too, but I hadn’t. It was just the principle of things. When his stars persisted, I looked down at my ‘trousers’ too, growing embarrassed the longer he stayed silent, when I noticed the gravel beneath my shoes. Gravel? What happened to the pavement?

“Hey,” I began, “where are-?”

“Anthony! What ever was the ruckus for? Why have we stopped moving, you twit?” A frighteningly familiar voice called from the door of the carriage and, when our gazes crashed, (e/c) slapped against cold gray, my heart stopped. 

“Grey?” I whispered, my brain hammered in my head and I stared as the man, clad in obnoxious white and oozing righteousness, stepped down from the door of the carriage. He was followed shortly by a taller, quieter figure, his uniform as white and stare as cold as Grey’s. “Phipps?” 

“Oh, you know the Lords’ Charles?” The man, Anthony, asked me excitedly. “They are simply wonderful, my Lords’ have come this way to-“

“Hey, kid, shut that gab!”

‘“Gab”?’

“Our business is not yours to go around sharing, understood?” Phipps told Anthony gently, the hard lines of his face grew softer when he talked to the shorter man, almost like he was talking to a child. Anthony flushed a deep red and bowed deeply to the Charles’, but I simply stood and stared, my mind unable to comprehend the duo stood before me. 

Grey turned to me then, his face screwed up in disgust and the old hatred I used to hold for him grew up within me again, “Now, who exactly are you? Throwing yourself out into the middle of the road? A loon?” A quick, gray glance up and down. “What are you wearing? Do you think yourself to be a man, you buffoon?” 

“Excuse me?” I glowered up into his feminine face and tucked away the urge to kick his balls up into his throat. “Even if I did, that wouldn’t be not even a bit of your business, Grey!” I jabbed my finger against his chest and nearly yelped when he caught my wrist in a burning grip, the leather pinch of his gloves tearing through the fabric of my sweater into my skin. 

“What did you say?”

“Calm yourself, Grey. You mustn’t ever raise your hand to a woman, even one as odd as her. The Queen would renounce her crown in shame if she saw you.” Phipps took Grey’s hand in his own and pulled it off of me, allowing me to nurse the ache of it in my own grip. 

Grey scowled up at Phipps before he wrenched his hand away and took a moment to look at me, as if seeing me for the first time since his slur of insults had begun. His eyes found the outline of a cats head stitched into the left breast of my sweater and, with a start, he seemed to have realized something very, very important. He pulled a wrapped parchment from the confines of his pants- damn men and their bottomless pockets, I couldn’t even fit my phone in the back pocket of… MY PHONE, OH NO. I patted the back of my pants feverishly then, and the front and the sides and nothing. I must’ve lost it back at the pond, and if it’s in that water then it’s done for. 

I hung my head dramatically. Even if the phone had worked in this disorienting fever dream I was walking through, what would I have done with it? Called the Earl Phantomhive to come and save me? Heh, yeah, right. Even exciting fandom dreams didn’t work like that. 

“Hey, buffoon, are you dead?” Grey waved the rolled parchment in front of my face, tapping it against my forehead twice before I ripped it out of his hand. He moved to snatch the paper back before he stopped himself with a trembling fist, his gray eyes glared back into mine. “Watch it, kitty, my claws are bigger.”

“‘Kitty’?” I repeated, my entire body clenched disgustedly and I tucked the rolled paper behind my back protectively. 

Grey turned back towards the carriage, his eye twitched subtly just before he did so, and he stomped back towards it like a child. Phipps remained for just a moment longer, and the cool timbre of his voice fell heavily upon me. “The Queen asked that we deliver that message to you, the black cat. Read it carefully, stranger, it may be your only saving grace here.” 

Oh, splendid, a quest in the midst of this fever dream. Or… Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all? Maybe I’d been right the first time, could I be-?

“Phipps!” I called after the retreating blue of white and silver. He turned back to me curiously, his gray eyes widened just slightly, “Where am I?” 

The nobleman pointed towards the left of the path behind me, towards the open blue sky, and said, “That way is the town, you should reach it by dusk on foot.” He turned and pointed back the way they had come then, an uncharacteristically mischievous grin hidden in the porcelain stone of his face, “And back through the woods resides the manor of Phantomhive, it stands only a handful of minutes beyond the edge of the trees. Read the letter my comrade gave you, and make your choice.”

Phantomhive, that means Ciel, and Ciel means… “Wait!” I called to Phipps once more, I had another question. Only one. “Am I dead?” I asked across the handful of feet between us. 

Phipps gave me a curious stare, tilted his head and, with a dismissive wave over the back of his head, he took the final steps back towards the door of the carriage. “Not yet.” And he disappeared into the shade and curtains of the carriage, the door clicked softly behind him. 

“Well,” Anthony spoke then, nearly scaring me out of my skin, as he climbed back up into the seat at the front of the carriage. “It was nice meeting you, black cat, even if you are dressed funny!”

I held my hand against my heart, startled within my chest, for a moment before I smiled softly at the boy, “Bye, Anthony.”

With a soft grin and a firm click to the horses, Anthony pulled the carriage back into motion and I watched the wooden vehicle clatter down the gravel. It grew further and further away, until it disappeared completely, and I stared after it even then. I looked at the rolled parchment then, turning it in my hand until the seal of a crimson crown caught my attention, and Phipps words fell back into my head. ‘Make your choice’. From the moment the noble had mentioned the Earl Phantomhive, my choice had been made. 

So— without pausing to read the letter, or taking a moment to consider this strange dream, or accepting the possibility that this might simply be some strange quest to the gates of the afterlife— I moved forward, towards the Estate of the Earl Phantomhive, and into the domain of the beautiful demon butler that had danced along the edge of my mind since the strange dreams in the pond. I began my climb into the direction of my future and my past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ain’t never seen two polite men dressed in white, it’s always one of them needs castrated without anesthetia


	3. Chapter 2 ꧂ A Deal Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantomhive manor, hidden beyond the trees like a frightening secret of the world, reaches its gloved hands towards you. Secrets of a life once lived prickle at the back of your mind, as huge icor of the waves pull you further beneath their depths. The Earl Phantomhive has opened to you his doors, but can you keep the promises made within?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooop, she felt soooo long to write, but so quick to read. I hope I was able to make the story a little more casual this chapter. I knows it’s slow in progress, but it’s introducing right now and will pick up in the next chapter. Maybe even… Smut soon0-0 Anyways. I changed the perspective to Second Person because that’s honestly easier for me to right. I’ll be going back through and fixing the previous chapters to be the same. Hope you enjoy!

The gravel beneath your feet crunched as you trudged forward. The soak of your leggings had rubbed your thighs raw and you’d begun to crab-walk forward, the cool breeze a kiss against the painful area. You had a half a mind to just take your pants off altogether, it was just a dream anyway, but then you pictured someone actually seeing you half-naked in the middle of the woods and the idea died where it started. You squeezed the parchment rolled in your hands as you grumbled along, “Stupid fucking Grey, such an ass. ‘Buffoon, my claws are bigger’’. Memememeh.” 

You mocked the Earl Grey’s earlier words to you, narrowing your eyes at the sour memory of him. Even in a dream, he was still a complete douche-nozzle. Your agitation had only been building as you walked in the direction Phipps had pointed you, but, when you stumbled forward against your soggy pant leg, you threw a complete fit. 

Kicking rocks and swearing hard enough to make your grandparents roll in their graves, you punched at the air and then your hands before you stood still. “FUCK!” You wrenched your pants up above your knees, pulled your sleeves up as high as the could go, tightened your hold on the letter the Charles’ had given you, and, with a deep breath, you moved forward again. A handful of minutes and tantrums passed and you popped out of the tree line, and the sight of a grand manor stopped you in your tracks. 

The Earl Phantomhive and his mansion hidden in the English woods. “Finally!” You huffed as you crabbed your way forward, “What kind of dream is this? It HURTS!” You pulled your pants off of your legs by the crotch and hobbled forward, crunching the now-dirt pathway beneath the slight heels of your shoes. When you reached the bottom of the steps up to the front door, you sighed in humiliation and spread your legs apart, waddling up the steps in twos. 

The rich mahogany of the door stared you in the face, intimidating and beautiful; much like the man(?) hidden within. The moment his face crept behind your eyes, your agitation sunk to the depths of your stomach and heavy anxiety took its place. Even though this was a dream, some death trial, it was still Sebastian Michaelis. Still one of the most beautiful, hypnotizing, and ethereal men you’d ever harbored an obsessive crush on. Would you even be able to look him in the eyes? It was all so much, the thought, the promise of him within the building. Don’t dreams numb this? This rush of adoration and embarrassment? 

You weren’t given any more time to wonder on the startling real-ness of this ‘dream’ before the door clicked open and a crimson heat crashed into your face. Your knees trembled. He looked so, so… Human? Had the Charles’ looked so real, so three-dimensional? In hindsight, you supposed they had to have, but the details of their faces mattered very little to you compared to his. The shape of his nose, the curve of his mouth, the arch of his jaw; it was all so perfect, as though is was sculpted from stone, and the length of his lashes tickled the back of your head in a fuzzy way. The deep shape of his eyes found you and the crimson hue of their center trapped you in them like honey. Your mind went completely blank. What was your name again?

“Hello? May I-“ Sebastian’s words, the sound of his voice like the richest silk across your skin, fell into silence as he saw you. You felt something pop in the confines of your chest and you idly wondered if you’d burst a blood vessel; and, when Sebastian’s hands came across your shoulders and pulled you against him, you knew you had. He smelt like clean linen, tea leaves and roses, and the faint smell of a fire cracked you in the back of the throat. You’d never stood so stiff in your life, your nails threatening to pierce the skin of your hands and dye the letter red. “You… I found you.” 

You gave the cotton of his shirt a final sniff before you leaned away from him, absolutely stunned by both him and yourself. ‘Found’? What did that mean? How could he know you? Why did you move away? So many questions bumbled in your head and you only managed to spew out an unintelligible string of sputters and a whispering “hi”. You couldn’t bare to meet the intensity of his stare, the beauty of his face only served to humiliate you further. 

“‘Hi’?” He repeated back to you, the weight of his hands across your shoulders grew tense. He desperately tried to meet your eyes, but you tilted your head down to the floor and held the letter up between you, “F-f-f… For Phantomhive.” You crushed out of your stuttering lungs. Sebastian looked down at the letter between you for a moment before he released his hold of you and gently took the letter in his own hands. The brush of his fingers against yours sent your heart into a tizzy and you ripped them back into your chest. 

You felt the heat of Sebastian’s eyes against your face and you found yourself beginning to awkwardly turn and leave before an all-too familiar voice echoed across the arched walls of the entrance hall. “Sebastian! What are you dawdling here for? Who was it?”

“My lord.” Sebastian slowly pulled his stare from you and turned to face his lord, Earl Ciel Phantomhive; small, and intimidating, and just as real as Sebastian. His face was rounder than you thought it would be, and he wasn’t nearly as skinny. You met the deep blue of his exposed eye and you shrunk into yourself at the evaluation of his stare. “A guest, with a gift for the Earl Phantomhive.”

“Gift? I have no use of gifts.” Ciel clicked down the marble steps, the metal of his cane a ticking clock of your fate. “And you, what in the devil are you wearing?”

Sebastian turned back to see you then and your face burst into heat; you scrambled to cover your legs and arms, fighting the wet fabric back into its place, but you still struck out against everything Ciel knew. Pants and black color and soaked skin and all. “I-I don’t. I mean, I. It’s. Hi.” You repeated the phrase you’d muttered to Sebastian before you remembered yourself. Bowing at the waist and awkwardly holding your arms out towards the demon butler beside you, “Hello, Earl Phantomhive, I’ve brought a letter to you. From the Earls Phipps and Grey.” You muttered the last name with disgust. 

“The Charles’?” Sebastian asked me gently and I dipped my head against the sound of it, incredibly flustered by the way it made my heart dance. “She seems to be in acquaintance with Queen, my lord.” Sebastian, his deep gaze still burning the top of my head, handed the letter to his approaching lord who took it with a grimace. 

“Those pains were just here, why not send it with them.” Ciel muttered as he broke the seal of the damp parchment. Two letters fell into his hands and, after a moment of reading, he handed one of them to you. “I believe this is addressed to you.”

You met Ciel’s stare with surprise before you gently took the letter, a small thank you falling from your lips as you did. Through the weight of Sebastian’s eyes cast between you and his lord, you read the letter. 

“Hello, dearest (Y/n),  
I’m sure you’re incredibly startled by all of this. I can not imagine how frightened you may be, and for that I apologize. I would love to meet you, to better explain myself, but now is not the time, I’m afraid. The Earl Phantomhive and his butler are in desperate need of your help. The raven is drowning in the past and only you can save him. That is why I have brought you here. I am certain Ciel will not cast you out, not once you give him my letter. Though it may confuse you, play along with his theories, it is the only way to appease his ever-curious mind. Salvation resides within you for the fallen ones, never forget that. And please, write to me anytime you are confused, or frightened, or simply want a friend. I adore you more than you can imagine.  
Sincerely, Queen Alexandria Victoria”

What? What did you just read? ‘Adore’, ‘salvation’, ‘raven’? What the hell was going on? You were missing something very vital to this entire situation, you were certain of it. 

“Psychic? What nonsense.” Ciel muttered in disdain, handing the letter to Sebastian when he had finished before he turned his bored stare to you. “How you’ve managed to fool even the Queen, I suppose, is impressive. However, I will not be manipulated into believing something so fantastical as predicting the future.”

You’d forgotten how agitating Ciel could be until that moment and, driven by your own frustrated confusion, you spoke before you realized the weight of the words. “Hah, that’s rich coming from you, Ciel.”

“Pardon?” 

You missed the threat hidden in that single word as you continued, unaware of the deepening crimson stare against the side of your head, “You don’t believe in fortune tellers with a demon right beside you?” 

The room plunged into a deep freeze in that moment and complete terror flew upon you, crushing your guts in its taloned grip and sealing your fate in stone. Ciel looked as frightened as you felt and the heat of the demons presence at your side burnt you down to your bones. You floundered backwards desperately, pushing yourself into the mahogany of the door and scrambling with a missing doorknob. “I didn’t! No, no! I’m sorry! I won’t, I just meant…!” 

“My lord.” Sebastian slowly turned towards Ciel then, his face an unreadable slate of ice as cold as the room around you. This was it, death after death, and you knew it would be painful. “I believe I’ve heard of a psychic.”

… What?

You finally met the color of Sebastian’s eyes then, your face a desperate picture of relief and fear, and he grinned down at you privately, as though he was sharing a precious secret only meant for you to hear. “What is your name, miss?”

Your tongue felt heavy against the roof of your mouth, but you managed to crack your lips wide enough to whisper the name to him. A surge of ancient and frightening energy whipped across the air between you, tickling across the shape of your mouth, and you felt something close to a knot tying around your heart. Like a leash. 

Sebastian repeated the name gently to himself, a near-silent murmur of syllables, before he turned back to Ciel. “Indeed, my lord. Through the length of my last contract, I heard rumors of an exceptionally powerful psychic roaming the country. It was rumored she could see into the souls of those she met, and that her predictions were never wrong, no matter how ridiculous they seemed. And so here a ‘psychic’ stands, I suppose those whispers may have been true after all.”

He’s… Lying? Sebastian can’t lie! It breaks the contract, it frees Ciel of his deal, so… Why is nothing happening? 

“Hmm, first the Queen, and now Sebastian.” Ciel mumbled to himself, the suspicious hue of blue never leaving your face. “I suppose there is merit to your ‘power’. So, tell me then, who sought to destroy the family Phantomhive.”

You felt a rumble in the depths of Sebastian’s very being and, though he’d spoken to spare you earlier, you felt the threat of his stare then. The promise of danger if you should speak out of the thin line he’d silently given you. “I-I don’t know. I predict the future,” you fumbled through the lie set for you by Sebastian and the Queen, “I can’t see the past.”

“Hmm,” Ciel hummed disappointedly, “is that so?”

Sebastian’s hand fell down against your shoulder then and you nearly leapt out of your skin at the feeling, throwing a startled look up at the side of his face. “My lord, should we continue this discussion in your study? Our questions are likely to continue for a while yet. What sort of Earl would you be to force a young lady to stand through her own trial?”

“The sort with a demon at his disposal, I suppose.” Ciel grumbled to himself miserably before he turned and began his climb up the grand staircase. “Fine, come along. We’ll continue this upstairs.” 

“Very good, my lord.” Sebastian called after his retreating Earl cheerfully, his face a mischievously adorable smile, before he turned to you. “My lady, shall we-?”

You grabbed his hand as it left your shoulder, the palm of your hand pressing against the sharp ridge of his knuckles, and you subconsciously marveled at the size of his fingers against yours. “You-you lied? I thought you couldn’t lie?”

“Oh? So you know even that about our contract? I’m desperately curious to know how much rests in the head of yours.” Sebastian cast a heavy gaze down upon your face, reveling in the fact that your eyes finally met his once again. His suave faltered under the firm weight of your knitted brows and he tilted his head to better look down into your face. “I lied about nothing, (Y/n),” you shivered at the sound of your name on his lips. “Under my last contract, I did hear rumors of an all-powerful psychic roaming Asia. Though they proved to be false, I heard them all the same.”

Sebastian had saved you from Ciel’s desperation to keep the truth a secret, all while he had skillfully avoided the truth. He was beyond perfection in nearly every way and you grew flustered to be in his presence once again. You pulled your hand from his, your face alight with red embarrassment, as you muttered a small ‘thank you’. 

“Of course. It would do no good to kill you now, after all. Our reunion has just barely begun.”

‘Reunion’? You wondered, confusion rising back to the surface of your mind. His hug, the suffocating fire in his eyes when he’d seen you, the words in the Queens letter; it all told of a prequel you had yet to read. It promised a secret hidden inside your own self and, before you could ask Sebastian one of the many questions brewing in your head, he turned and ascended up the stairs after his lord. Moving to follow him, you became miserably aware of the raw skin of your thighs once again. With a humiliated and defeated sigh, you grabbed the crotch of your pants again and crabbed your way across the hall, up the steps, and down the hall behind the the sophisticated click of Sebastian’s pristine shoes against the polished wooden floor. 

꧂

“So, let me unravel things.” Ciel sighed, a thin hand pressed against the crest of his forehead. “A few months ago, you predicted an incident in which the Queens life was endangered and, through your visions, you saved her from the blade of a hidden assassin. As a result of your heroism, Her Majesty has sent you to me, in a hopes you can aid my work as the Queen’s Guard-dog. Is that right?”

You nodded along to Ciel’s story, ensnared in the lie the Queen had woven in her letter to the boy. “Y-yes! That’s right. I already know a great deal about you.”

“Oh?” Sebastian hummed from his place beside the Earl, “Such as?”

You flustered against Sebastian’s stare, the presence of him still overwhelming in every way, before you paused for a moment. With a brief glance back in the butlers direction, you remembered the silent threat he had issued you earlier and you decided it would be best to reveal as little as possible. Not only could your knowledge jeopardize Sebastian’s meal, it could put your life at risk- if you even were still alive, that was. 

“I… Know about the fire, about the pain the both of you endured,” Ciel flinched gently against the mention of his brother, against the secret that could take his throne from him. “I know about the deal, about your duties, your allies.”

“And my future?” The Earl asked suddenly, leaning forward against the rich wood of his desk, his eye digging beneath your skin. Though it wasn’t his stare that frightened you, but the crimson question hanging above your head like a Guillotine. 

You met Sebastian’s eyes cautiously as you continued, “It comes in… Bursts!” You threw out the first word that came to mind. 

“‘Bursts’?”

“Yeah, I see bits and pieces. Nothing solid, just… Possibilities! Right, possibilities. It’s all- well, it’s complicated.” You fumbled through the lie, spewing any fanfiction-esque sentence that came to you. 

Sebastian stood beside you suddenly then and you jumped backwards into your seat, a hand smacked against your pounding chest. A dashing grin sent your head through the wind and you felt hot and confused and nervous all at the same time. “So the visions are just that then, visions. Glimpses of futures to be.” He leaned towards you gently and you melted back against the material of the chair, your knees clapped together, as he poured you a cup of tea. When had that gotten there? “How interesting, don’t you think, my lord? An exquisite opportunity for us.”

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to find excitement in this, Sebastian.” Ciel grasped his own tea cup with a dangerous smile across his face. “After all, her abilities could throw the contract askew. Couldn’t they?”

You clenched the arms of the seat tighter at that, it seemed your worries hadn’t been yours alone, and jumped when Sebastian pulled your hands up against his. He pressed the hot cup of tea and its little saucer into your hands with an enchanting smile. “Worry not, my lord. I can assure you that no such thing will happen. It will be I to win you your revenge, no one else. Isn’t that correct, Lady (Y/n)?” 

“O-oh-oh, yes, yes! Absolutely, it’s been seen in the stars!” You repeated something you’d seen on TV once as you took an anxious mouthful of the too-hot tea. 

Sebastian stepped to the side just slightly enough to tap the edge of your foot with his own and you pulled your legs up against your chest, completely flustered by even the smallest amount of contact with the demon and how it made your blood hum. “Precisely, my lord. As she said.”

“Well, yes, but at any rate.” Ciel clacked his cup down against the little saucer with a scrutinizing stare cast back at you. “What is it exactly you’re wearing? Where are on earth are you from?”

You mimicked Ciel as best you could, setting your cup against its plate before you put it back on the table, hands nearly a-tremble. You told Ciel where you were from then, “And my clothes. They’re, well, uhhmm. Best for travel! Yes, you see, no skirts to get in the way and, even though the pockets are small, I can still carry money and other things I might need.”

“Travel. That suggests you aren’t entirely uneducated. Where does your refined knowledge end?” Ciel asked you, a complete change of subject, but one that gave you hope. One that you’d read about so many times before in fanfiction. This was the part where he offered you the maid job, where you worked with the other servants and enraptured then with your unique soul and skill, where you seduced the butler and won the fairy tale.

“My education! Well, I don’t know much about propriety, if that’s what you mean. But! I do know lots of other things. I can read, write, I understand math and science, I can sort of play chess too!” No, you couldn’t, not really, but a little embellishment never hurt anyone.

Ciel interrupted you, the tip of his nose a tad pink against the white rim of his cup, “Can you… Dance?” 

“Dance? Ballroom dance?” You asked and, when Ciel nodded his head gently, Sebastian turned to laugh into the corner of the room. “My young lord never could dance, the footwork of it all escapes him entirely and he refuses to let me teach him. Stubborn, little…

“Quiet you!” Ciel’s voice cracked and you choked a laugh against your teeth, a small ‘hnrrk’ left you and you reached for your cup again desperately. “Can or can’t you dance?” Ciel demanded.

You swirled the brown water in a hesitant way that both the Earl and his butler caught immediately. “So that’s a no, then.” Ciel sighed miserably as he sunk back down in his chair. “Though your ‘abilities’ are impressive, I suppose, that’s still no ground to let you wander about my home. I appreciate your visit today, but I’m afraid it’s time for you to leave. Sebastian.”

“Uh, my lord-“

“Escort her out, Sebastian, now.” Ciel’s tone left no room for question and his butler sighed dramatically, as if a grand plan of his had been foiled by a screaming child.

Sebastian moved to take your arm to lead you out of the doors, but you pulled away from him, pushing the teacup into his hand instead. You performed a glorious little half-jump over the chair arm, stumbling when you landed, before you threw your hands up at the pair. “Wait, wait, wait!” When neither made to grab you again, you cleared your throat and, with the firmest voice you could manage, “Ciel. Didn’t your Queen send me? Aren’t you required to obey, to move your pawns across the board as she orders?”

“No.” You interrupted Ciel as he opened his mouth to defend himself, to order your removal. “You move for yourself. Even if the entire board crumbles beneath you, and it will, you will play this game until your final breath. I want to help you do that, allow me to become a piece on your board, Ciel. The bishop, to lead and guide you, to protect you beside the knight.” You met Sebastian’s eyes then, enamored by yourself at the fierce glow of his stare, a new confidence bubbling in your chest as you wove a perfect trap. You knew how Ciel saw the world better than the boy himself, and you knew the lengths he would go to in order to win this game.

“If you ever order it, I will leave,” you hoped that you hadn’t just given Ciel the opportunity to throw you out when you finished your monologue. “But, until then, allow me to serve you. You need me more than you know.”

A deep silence fell upon the study, a quick exchange of wordless orders, promises, flew between Ciel and Sebastian and you desperately fought the urge to itch your raw thighs. Ciel grabbed the porcelain cup in his fingers once again as he leant back against the velvet plush of his chair, a gentle, powerful sip, and he was speaking. “To know my black heart so intimately, it seems you are a psychic after all. Here’s my offer: You’re to work for me, until I order, as a maid.”

“Ciel,” your heart quivered in relief, “thank-“

“I’m not finished.” No, heart, I’m sorry, the Earl isn’t done with you yet. “Your skills are far too elementary to warrant employment for the name Phantomhive. You will study thoroughly under Sebastian, he will ensure you become worthy of your position. You have three months to impress me.”

You gaped ridiculously at the Earl, your mind playing catch-up to his new demands, when he grinned devilishly up at you over the lip of his cup. “Oh, didn’t you predict that, perhaps you’re already getting rusty.”

“I’ll show you ‘rusty’, you little-“ Sebastian stopped you mid sleeve roll, his hand a gentle weight against your shoulder. 

“Now, now, children, is it nap time already?” He chuckled with a vast amount of comedic pride in himself before he flashed a flustering smile down at you. “You needn’t worry, my lady. I am completely qualified teach you everything you will need to know; from martial arts to the setting of a table, my knowledge is yours.”

“‘Martial arts’?” You repeated nervously to yourself, overwhelmed by what you had thrown yourself into as Sebastian had begun to lead you towards the door. “Indeed. If you can not even defend your master then what kind of servant are you? Fret not, I’ll have you to our lords standards before you know it. Now, let’s get you changed.”

Sebastian opened the door of the office with an unquestionable finality, his hand on your back gentle but firm, before Ciel called your name with a laugh. Both you and the butler turned to the Earl, who now idly read through one of the many papers on his desk, who flashed you a challenge in his smile. “Good luck.”

“Hmm!” You sniffed back at him, much to Sebastian’s obvious aghast, “I don’t need your luck! Just you wait, Ciel; in three months, I’ll knock your stupid, little, clip-on, knee socks off.”

Ciel grinned delightedly then, “Though I can not imagine why you’d want my socks, I look forward to it, (Y/n).” 

With a grunt of disapproval, Sebastian led you through the office doors and, with a hard glance back at you, he clicked them shut. He flicked you against the mouth then and you winced, clapping your hand over your lips like a scolded child. “Those hideous manners will be the first thing to go, right along with this ruined clothing. Come along now, we haven’t a moment to waste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHHAHAHAHAHA, DO I SMELL POTENTIAL SEXUAL TENSION BETWEEN A FRUSTRATED TEACHER AND AN ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN STUDENT???? DO I SEE THE HORIZON OF A TENSE FIGHT SCENE BATHED IN LUST AND FLITH?? Maybe, I don’t know, we’ll see.


End file.
